a wall against the wind
by hashire
Summary: She can't tell if he wants to be alone or not. He gives her a half-nod, moving forward again. She follows. Ichiruki, spoilerish, sketchish.


Standard disclaimers apply here.

_Notes_: So. It's been years since I've written for Bleach so I'm probably rusty. I am reasonably pleased with this, but I wouldn't post it if I wasn't. I did try to take some time to study characters (i.e., waste time reading manga) when I was writing a fic that I eventually threw out a while ago. But here's this. Title taken from the song by Tom Morello, capital letters removed by me. This covers the time between 477/478 and glosses over 478 a little.

WARNINGS: _ overuse of pronouns and abuse of page breaks (they're meant to signify time jumps, but the space between parts gets shorter and shorter). And some mentions of blood.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>a wall against the wind<em>

She regains consciousness and wonders where the pain is. Her eyes don't seem to want to open. Maybe she's numb. Maybe he missed. Maybe…

Something drips on her cheek. It's warm. She forces her eyes open. _Ichigo_. But he isn't crying. He's kneeling on the ground, holding onto her limp body. Her head almost connects with his chin when she jerks it up to look around.

"What's happened?" she says, propelling herself up. She touches the spot on her face. Blood. He looks away then back. The worry on his face is evident, though she can't imagine why it would be for her.

"She jumped out in front of you." The girl lies not too far away from them, breathing raggedly and bleeding everywhere.

"Ichigo! Why aren't you doing something?" She is nothing short of appalled. When she turns back and meets his eyes, she understands. Maybe.

The girl coughs up blood. They go to her together.

* * *

><p>Orihime sobs when they bring back the girl; she throws her arms around Rukia when she sees her.<p>

None of them are happy in that moment; at least, not entirely or by the conventional definition. He tries to push her hands away when she attempts to heal him while Orihime is busy. She thinks _I'll hit him when I'm finished_ but she sees his expression - the same one from before.

Part of her still wants to hit him.

Ishida shows up at some point. Orihime hums. Halfhearted words are tossed Ichigo's way as the healing starts. He makes a noise to indicate he heard them when Ishida pauses at the proper place for his retort. They fall silent.

Urahara sits in the shadows, fan half-covering his face. By the way his eyes glint, it's not hiding a smile.

* * *

><p>He starts off the night by wearing the guilt on his face without trying to cover it up. They can all see it. No one seems able to bring up the topic as they wait for the girl to wake up. She sits back against a wall near him, watching him out of the corners of her eyes.<p>

His father stops by after Orihime moves to lie beside the girl. He whispers something to Urahara before walking over to them. He ruffles Ichigo's hair; she doesn't think she's ever seen him so subdued. Until he puts his son in a headlock.

"Hey, hey," Urahara says, waving his fan at them. "Don't break anything. You'll have to pay extra." The smile that settles onto his lips is somewhere near mischievous. The glint doesn't disappear.

"Let go of me, old man!" Ichigo snaps, his struggles as halfhearted as Ishida's previous words.

"You should be on your toes, Ichigo! No son of mine would just sit there and take this!" Isshin isn't smiling; he isn't frowning either.

His laugh when his son throws him off, causing him to land on his back on the hard floor, isn't forced.

"That's my boy," he wheezes. Ichigo leaves the room.

* * *

><p>He comes back before the girl wakes up. When she does, her first instinct is to call out to him. Orihime hasn't left her side. She begins to cry again.<p>

His guilt returns; it may have never left, but he masked it well enough that she hasn't seen it until now. Renji also returns, though he, too, never really left. She's pulled away from what's happening by him.

"We have to go now," he says. He doesn't knit his tattooed brows together as he tells her, but he comes close to it.

"I can't," she replies without a thought. But she has thought about it. It's been less than a day, yet she knows she can't leave. Not now. She still has work to do.

Renji sighs. "You can't stay for too long," he reminds her, his tone laced with an undefined certainty of discipline if something goes wrong. She knows; she can't respond as he starts to add something to that. He thinks better of it and shuts his mouth. Instead, he pulls her into a hug that forces the air out of her. "Be careful."

She gives him a gentle shove. "Don't worry about me." He pauses, smiling and looking at her for a long moment before turning away. She doesn't watch him past that because of what she sees out of the corner of her eye: Ichigo is leaving.

Her 'goodbye' is distracted and short.

* * *

><p>She dashes to catch up with him. His head is down, shoulders slumped, hands stuffed into his pockets.<p>

"Ichigo! Wait!" He looks over his shoulder and stops. She lands next to him, pushing some hair out of her face. "Where are you going?"

"Home. There's no reason to stay here." He jerks his head toward Urahara's shop. "I can't –" He presses his lips together; he doesn't seem to want to finish his sentence. She can think of reasons to stay but more reasons not to.

"All right, let's go," she says firmly. She can't tell if he wants to be alone or not. He gives her a half-nod, moving forward again.

She follows.

* * *

><p>It's early morning. He hasn't made any indication that he's tired.<p>

"Don't you have school tomorrow?" she asks, sounding more admonishing than she intended.

His eyes flick over to her. "No." She doesn't know if she should accept that answer or not. He won't offer anything else.

His sister walks out of the kitchen with a glass of water when they walk in. Rukia feels oddly surprised at the widening eyes and slackening jaw. She hasn't forgotten about Karin, though this somehow slipped her mind.

"Rukia? What are you doing here?" Karin sets the water down, trying to stifle a yawn and failing.

"She's visiting," he says, cutting in before she can answer. He echoes the yawn. Rukia can't help but follow suit, glaring at the back of his head. His sister looks at him as well, for a different reason. She always had seemed intuitive.

"Are you okay?" He waves his hand, disregarding the question with the gesture. He responds nonetheless.

"Fine," he tells her as he walks up the stairs. Karin looks to Rukia for clarification – some sort of answer, at least – but she just follows Ichigo.

It isn't her place to say anything, after all.

* * *

><p>He's already on his bed when she walks in; she knows he isn't sleeping. There's not much she can think of doing.<p>

After Kaien's death – after she killed him – she couldn't talk about it. No one would talk about it.

"Rukia," he says; it's muffled by the pillow so she moves closer, "what are you doing here?"

She frowns, miffed by the question. What does he mean by that? Why she came here in the first place? He knows the reason for that; if he doesn't, he deserves to have the sense knocked into him again. Why she followed him here? Well, there are myriad reasons for that, too.

_I'm worried about you_ won't come out of her mouth. "Why do you think I'm here?" she asks instead.

* * *

><p>She slides open the door to his closet, gazing into it with a nostalgic look on her face. He sits up and swings his feet over the edge of the bed.<p>

"Are you going to be staying long?" She can't place the emotion in his voice or on his face. It's sudden.

"I don't know." She tilts her head down. Her hair can't hide her face any longer. She wants to be able to stay as long as she can. She can't shirk her duties anymore. She has to go back sometime.

He stands, walks over to her. His grip on her arm is unexpected but not uninvited. She tilts her face up again. Is that…desperation? No. There are definite hints of it. That's not what it is.

His fingers tighten.

* * *

><p>It isn't the right time. No, no, not at all. Maybe there have been worse times; she can't think of any right now.<p>

She can't back away. He can't make up his mind. Her lieutenant badge falls to the floor. His grip is like a vice.

"Rukia," he mutters, now staring at her like he can't believe she's there. Maybe that's why he's not letting her go; maybe he thinks she's an illusion of a shocked mind, that if he holds onto her she won't drift away. Maybe he needs to get some sleep.

"Ichigo," she responds in a similar low tone, to prove her being there.

When he lets go of her arm, she reaches up instead. It may not be the right time, but she doesn't care.

* * *

><p>She may have 'lived' much, much longer than he. She may have seen much more than he. When she draws him down to meet her, they're at about the same level.<p>

He doesn't know how to react but becomes too earnest. She distantly wonders if he understands. Of course, if there's any indication of understanding, it would be this. It doesn't mean he fully gets it. She's too distracted to think much about it.

_Why does he have to be so tall?_

* * *

><p>He's curled on his side on the floor, head on her lap. He clutches a handful of her hakama almost like a child, yet not.<p>

She is getting uncomfortable. She shifts her legs into a better position for herself. It does nothing to move him.

"Ichigo. _Ichigo_." She can't raise her voice with the rest of the house asleep, so she does the best she can with whispering. "_Go to bed_."

"No."

"No?"

"I'm comfortable. Shut up." She can't fathom how he could be comfortable – and can't he tell that she isn't? She huffs.

"You'll pay for that later," she says to him, no promises or threats behind her words. She leans back against the wall, slides her hand through his hair as her eyes flutter shut. She distantly muses about how their positions have switched from earlier.

He mutters something; it sounds like her name. She smiles.


End file.
